No More I Love You
by RchHghr
Summary: Bellatrix knows she cant be a mother, but she can make the right decision.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, seriously. Every time I hear the song _No More I Love You_ by Annie Lennox I think that it's a song about Bellatrix Lestrange so I wrote a story to suit it to her. Enjoy.

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She didn't know why she was going to see him or why she was going to tell him what was going on. She just went cloaked in the night hidden from anyone who held a curiosity to her or her on goings for a long of time now.

She approached the door and knocked a few times then took her fist away.

She pulled her hood over her face more when the door opened and Severus Snape stood there scowl on his face as usual as if he hated the world and all it's people.

She cast her eyes up to his blank no expression in them at all that gave nothing away and didn't break contact.

"What do I owe this visit? Everyone presumes something but I've got you on my doorstep."

"Are you going to let me in or make me stand out here all night?"

"Hmmm?" he thought.

Her dead eyes grew dark. It didn't phrase him but he did move over and she walked in and awkwardly took a seat on the couch only pulling her hood down not revealing anything only the ghost of features that were once star quality beautiful.

"Do I have to play host or are you going to get straight to the point?" He asked. He stood with temper, a bad mood; he disliked her and her disgrace. They never saw eye to eye. They never saw each other matched on any level and even though they only cared for no one but themselves she took her self satisfaction in the gloat that her talents were expressed in boisterous bouts that carried. She took the simple term 'sore winner' to many levels above.

She shook her head. "I don't want anything." Her eyes cast away from him. She left her sentence hanging in the air like there was more but it couldn't pass her lips.

She fingered the silver band on her pointer finger. It was chipped and very rusted. The tribal design, whatever was visible past the rust was intricate with a beautiful precision.

"Whatever caused you to make a disappearance for eight months is your problem. Don't bring your problems around here expecting me to cover for you or handle them because the door is that way. You can stay here tonight, on the couch but I want you out before I wake in the morning. I want no trace of you left in my home." He departed up the stairs with a close of a door.

She pushed her dirty fascinate hair back from her face and licked her dry lips. They were dry beyond relief because of lack of sufficient nutrition. She lacked nourishment and care in all aspects.

With a lot of struggle she managed to pull herself up and gingerly took the steps upstairs to the bathroom where she stripped off everything and turned on the faucet to fill the tub with hot water. With enough water she turned it off and sat down with her hands on her belly where they child grew and grew soon ready to enter the world. The little boy would enter the world at the wrong time with no chance.

Snape cleared his throat and she looked over at him with no shame what so ever. She didn't care that her skin, scared and pale like paper was mucky and crawled with goose bumps or that her boobs were exposed to him with eh nipples sticking straight out.

She didn't care. She held her hands on her belly and felt the baby move, an action that scared her every day. She looked down at the bulge and rubbed softly with her hands.

"Seven months and seven days," she said. She put her hands in the water and rubbed it on her belly where it was dry. It quickly dried so she did it again.

He didn't say anything; he had no expression on his face, no judgment of her character or prospects of the situation until he opened his mouth again.

He took a seat against the tub, his back to her while she continued to rub the water on her belly. She leaned her head back on the rim and closed her eyes as the baby relaxed.

"He likes when I have a bath, it calms him down so he doesn't hurt me."

"How do you know it's a boy?" He had his head leaning against the rim but he was more hunched forward. She could see nothing of his face and she most certainly couldn't read body language.

"Because he is rough. A girl couldn't enter this life by me."

"You're not a mother."

She knew that. She knew that nothing was good that could make her happy that didn't involve only her and the pleasures that she took from others or accomplished alone for herself.

"I know that Severus. I know I am not a mother and he did not ask to be born into this life." She swished the water. It was becoming cold. She spoke quietly, spoken words with the most emotion she ever used to say something before and said, "I don't love him."

Severus didn't say anything. She knew that he knew she ws talking about her husband.

She stopped rubbing her belly and dropped her hands into the water. "This is not his baby."

He tensed. She saw it, he didn't turn around. Whatever was reading into him wasn't apparent.

"Who's the father of the baby?"

"It doesn't matter; I don't want them to know. I don't want the baby, that's why I'm here."

"I'm not dealing with the drama that you throw yourself into."

"JUST FIND HIM A HOME!" she cried out, an echo for the drark night. "Just get it away from everything . Take it somewhere where no one can match my face to his. I want the faces that raise him to be with a soul to depict everything worthy for him."

"You will never see him again." He said.

"That's the plan," she whispered.

"I will only do that. Your situation amongst others is handled by you and you only. Any words you speak of me will be wiped from your lips, am I clear?"

"I do not intent to speak of contact from you. Any shame should not tie into you. I'd hate for other to get a wrong impression. You are not worth the trouble."

"As of you and all that you take upon yourself." He stood with his back always to her, taking it as that all she was worth to him was nothing; nothing worth knowing and giving an eye view of acknowledgement.

He left her to her doings and she drained the water and dressed. She went downstairs and sat down in Severus Snape's chair and took out a folded piece of parchment from her pocket and unfolded it. It read:

_Leonardo Frederick Richington_

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She would name her child after his father because he was the one who taught her that there was love even in the dark.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Don't own anything.

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Early in the morning she laid on the couch, on her side with one arm hanging off and one around her belly. Rough, dry, nappy and tangled curls, once perceived as beautiful and perfect hung everywhere limp and lifeless as her even soft breathing indicated that she slept.

A blanket was draped onto her and secured around her bare feet and her arm was tucked under.

The heavy snow and heavy winds were controlled inside by the fire in the fireplace which placed a warm glow on the room in the real early morning.

Bellatrix shifted and opened her eyes. She gritted her teeth in pain and rubbed her belly trying to soothe the baby. The pain came from her middle and shifted in all directions. She felt like she was being ripped apart from the inside out so she sat up and took deep, even breaths to ease the strain she felt.

She put her bare feet to the hard, cold floor, the cold a shock to her and waddled back and force feeling pain that not even a curse could ever make her feel. The pain was created by her and for her. She felt like the baby was punishing her for everything she ever considered, for everything she did in life and what she was going to do once he was delivered into the world.

"You can't do this," she harshly whispered to the baby, "No family is going to want you if you are just like your mother. Someday it'll be fine, but now you have to be a good little boy and stop playing rough, otherwise you're going to get it with the wooden spoon until you're old enough to start school and momma won't be able to stop them permanently."

She sat down after a bit more pacing and rubbed her belly some more. The baby was calming but it wasn't enough for her to feel any ease. She wanted to go back to sleep but she felt pains and discomforts. Half of them were from her lack of care in herself and half were from the baby blaming her for the nutrients it wasn't getting because she couldn't get them for herself. She used mind over manner but the baby wasn't brilliant, it didn't know what she knew when it came to handling herself when she really couldn't get what she needed, but to trick her into thinking she had.

She knew she didn't have a great voice and with a dry throat she hummed the tune her mother used to hum to her and her sisters when they were very young. She remembered the tune as the only thing that ever made her happy as a young girl, so she hummed and rubbed her belly.

The baby actually stopped trying to kick her insides out and she felt relief and a tired feeling wash over her so she laid back down and covered herself with the couch throw embracing the warmth from the fireplace as the only warmth there was.

"You're still here?" Snape said the next time she woke up which was late morning. The snow still fell heavily outside making the world look like a snow dome that a child shook up in a frenzy.

"I can't move on my feet as quickly as I normally can, give me a break I'm pregnant." She sat up after a moment with awkward precision and sat back out of breath. She felt so heavy and awkward that she had to catch her breath from such a little movement.

"It's not my problem you can't control yourself. Who is the father Bellatrix!" he demanded of her and with eyes that saw way too much, and a soul that did way too much the tone did not faze her or make the answer appear anywhere in her brain for him to pry. She knew he was good at that, but she was good at blocking; blocking everything. Nothing let in and nothing let out was what kept her sane enough to do the things she did without thinking about them.

"Why do you want to know anything? You told me clearly last night that you didn't want to deal in my drama, my problems."

Him sitting in his tattered chair, newspaper folded over, whether he read it or not, he said, "you're in my home, there has to be a reason why you chose here to expose your secrets." He had that smug look she wanted gone from his face. She wanted to wipe it off herself but the sad thing was she didn't have a wand. She hadn't held one in her blistered hand in so long she forgot the feel of one, and the power she held at her fingertips. Boy the things she could do…

Her wand hand itched.

She smirked. "Don't flatter yourself; I know you won't say a thing. That's your problem Severus, you don't control anything, but it controls you." She would've let out a wicked chuckle but if she were to cough she would surely weaken her statement.

"You fail to see I have the control to this situation. Who's to say you haven't walked into a trap? Unarmed for one thing, pregnant another and a storm outside that would have you belly up in a minute. Boots that have holes bigger than your I.Q and you can still say that this situation controls itself. No, my dear, you are wrong." His face never left the sneer it always had, even when he felt he had the power, it didn't raise his threat level.

For herself, her face contorted between pain and keeping her tough interior. It wasn't from his comment either, and both knew it. She felt cramps and she knew they weren't going to go away any time soon.

She took a deep breath, held it in for a few seconds and then exhaled slowly. The baby kicked and for some reason it made her feel sick to her stomach but she kept strong and kept her lips in a tight line.

"I may be all that, as you say when you list all these qualities and even so I will always be better than you because I only have one face." She pushed her hair back with one hand and scratched the back of her head. It felt dry and flaky to her brittle, weak nails but a relief once they raked through a few times.

He smirked, "I am not the one sitting here trying desperately to save face. I don't have to account my actions. The thoughts are flooding through your mind, millions of ways to try and figure a way to squeeze you way right back into the way you hope things are still going. Well my dear, as I should clearly warn you, being the one who, as you say, won't say anything, that you will not be welcomed back with the 'warm' open arms you hope for." He chuckled. "You're a traitor to everything you've tried to stand for."

The baby kicked roughly and she doubled forward bouncing slightly. Through closed squinted eyes that watered with pain, teeth clenched so tight they could break her, breathed out in gasps and managed, "I am no traitor. I can't go against something that was never real." She cried out at the cramping, squeezing her arms around her head willing it to all go away, to stop her from looking any weaker than she was looking in front of the one who always saw her as weak, who she always saw as weak; both who hated each other since the Sorting Hat placed them together in the same house where it was all downhill from there.

But the baby made her weak, the reason for the baby made her weak and for so long she felt like a shadow to her former self, when life was easier and there was nothing to worry about. Everywhere she went was her playground, and she could do whatever she wanted.

But times felt different, and no matter how much they were changing, no matter what he said she was going to get through and it and get back to the way things were… Even if it meant going back o the way of life where she was married to someone who never showed her and ounce of love; where no one had ever showed her an ounce of love.

The one who did, well he would never see the face he described as an 'fallen angel' again. She'd make sure of it.

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Hope all is well. Drop me some love. Will post more soon. Take care.


	3. Chapter 3

Bellatrix knew she could handle pain. She knew of it and she caused it at every opportune time she could. But the little one inside of her kicking, moving or whatever he was doing was too much for the woman. She tried walking around the small room and rubbing her belly but it was no help. The baby did not settle. He kept at it.

"Maybe some tea," she said aloud to herself and went into the kitchen and found that he sat at the table with a cup of his own.

"Mind if I?" she asked with deep sarcasm helping herself to the still steaming kettle. She poured it over a tea bag which was left on the counter and put the cup on the table. She moved out the chair and awkwardly positioned herself to sit down feeling like a cow rather than just a pregnant woman.

She never thought that she'd see the day she carried a child inside herself. She always thought that she was too evil to conceive. But then again she had to remember that she had a nephew from her sister and her husband; both followers of the Dark Lord.

The Dark Lord.

What if he found out? What would be the reaction not just from him, but from the others? She knew she wouldn't have enough time to see their reactions. She'd be dead. Not only would she be tried as being unfaithful, but bringing spawn that didn't fit a certain quota, not even she supported. What made her do the whole ordeal she could not figure it out herself. She just knew it and happened and something had to come next; besides getting rid of the child which was an easy task to do period.

With shaking hands, from malnutrition or wild thoughts through her head, she brought the cup to her lips and took a sip, burning her tongue. But the warm liquid down her throat and warming in her belly felt too good to stop, so she drained half of it and that's when the boy inside of her relaxed. He stopped moving wildly and simmered. Maybe that was his way of telling her that he needed food. She knew she'd never be the kind of mother to read to her child and just know what it wanted. And how would she acquire the goods because they required too much?

She leaned back as best as she could and rubbed her belly. Just because he settled she didn't take chance that he would start up again. She looked across the small wooden table, full of knicks and dents and burns, she supposed, at the one who claimed residence. He sat just as 'relaxed' as she did.

"You think I wanted this?" she bit out bitterly, sneering on her chapped lips. She resisted the urge to pick them; an old habit she could remember from back in her school days when she was nervous about the outcome to certain situations, she situated. They always went her way, but it was just waiting for them to happen.

"It's not clear even to you what you want and don't want." He said obvious to her that he wasn't one to even consider a hint of consideration or help in what to do, how to feel and where to go from that point.

"I want everything I want. Everything I go after, sooner or later I get it. But this, this lunacy isn't what I want. You must know that. And that alone I don't want it anywhere else. I can't have it anywhere else. So this doesn't leave the pretty little walls of this house. Is that clear?"

"Throwing orders at me as if they mean anything Bellatrix? Let me make a deal with you. Tell me the story, a fabulous tale it must be, and I will make the decision of what I want to do with everything said and everything," he eyed her belly, keeping the smitten of comedy he felt when he saw just how big she was and what she wasn't capable of doing in her state.

"-that sits in my kitchen at this moment."

Narrowed eyes never left his until the baby kicked. It wasn't rough, but gentle as if it was some kind of encouragement for her to do it. It would be all over soon and to just ignore this was a great idea but not the idea that was going to work unless she swallowed a big gulp of her pride and told him what went on, what she felt and how she wanted to proceed next.

"What do you have to put on the table that will assure me that the minute my lips stop moving that you won't change your mind and double cross me?" She crossed her arms over her breasts, feeling their heavy weight ever since she knew she was pregnant. They not only felt heavy but hurt sometimes as well. She knew it was the pregnancy and pondered how women could keep the human race going when there was so much to deal with? She knew she was never going to do it again. To her it wasn't worth it. Let everyone else worry about that, she thought, her best thought in the whole situation.

"Even before you weave this tale I already have you in my home with a blizzard outside trapping you in. If I wanted to double cross you I would've done it already."

"Nothing holds me here from bolting out that door."

Their eyes locked and she knew that he knew she was lying. She needed him to find a home for the baby. That was the thing that was holding her back from anything.

He took the words from her mind, saying, "I have to maintain the livelihood of this child. Clearly you wouldn't even know what to do with it once it enters this world."

"I don't care once it's here as long as it disappears. Then it can end up in the Philippines for all that matters to me."

"Don't want mommy to pass down her character traits, just her looks?"

The taunt burned her because she fought everything in her power to do what she wanted and to not want the child to be as proud as she was, she hated that she wouldn't win this. He had her and she knew it. She had to accept this only defeat.

"Her beautiful looks yes, they will be passed down. He'll be handsome and smart. He'll just…" she patted her belly. She let the thought hang in the air. She didn't know what was going to happen, or what he would look like. Would he look like her or his father? Would he be smart, but either way he was going to be handsome. She knew that much.

"The cockiness has died I see. This should be interesting. Let's move into the sitting room where you'll be more 'comfortable.'"

"You just want to watch me get up and sit down again. If I wasn't pregnant the cockiness would be washed away from your eyes," she threatened, feeling herself flush even with the words. It was hard to move, but it wasn't her fault.

"Possibly," he said, but he got up and disappeared up the stairs either to get something or, to her surprise, give her the privacy to make a speculation of herself.


End file.
